


A Method of Distillation

by dizzy



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris/Darren hurt/comfort, and realistic but not graphic depictions of a really, really, really hungover person. Chris is around 21 here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Method of Distillation

  
“I feel like I’m dying,” Chris says. His voice is tiny, barely a whisper, but he manages to cram a whole lot of misery into it. His eyes are still closed when Darren looks down.   
  
He’s totally lost track of how much time he’s been sitting here with Chris’s head in his lap. Hours, he knows, from the light coming through the window. He’d drifted, maybe; not quite real sleep, but enough to blur the time. 

“Think you can hold down some water?” He asks.   
  
If Chris says no, Darren is fully prepared to wrap him up in a blanket and take him straight to the hospital. He’s still operating under the fear that he should have done that hours ago, when Chris started retching in his sleep.    
  
But Chris nods, just a little, and lets Darren help him up into a sitting position. The blanket he’d draped over Chris slips down and he shivers the instant the air hits his skin. Darren rubs a hand up and down his arm to help warm him up. “Sorry,” he says, but doesn’t bother to say what for, because he doesn’t think Chris needs a reminder that his shirt from last night is covered in puke in the bottom of a garbage can somewhere.    
  
He probably should have gotten him a fresh one, but he’d been too afraid to walk out of the room, not sure what he’d come back to. He’s a little pissed off that he’s alone here, even though he’s the one that told everyone else he had it when it became obvious that Chris needed to leave.    
  
He hadn’t wanted Chris to suffer the eventual embarrassment of everyone seeing him like that. Chris better buy him one fucking nice Hallmark card for this. Darren’s pretty sure he’s aged about five years in one night.    
  
Chris gets down half a bottle of water in little sips before Darren can tell he’s fading again. ‘Hey, come on,” he says. “Bed this time.”    
  
Chris pales at the idea of standing but lets Darren guide him. “I’m naked,” he says, a little dazed.    
  
“Uh, not quite, you’ve still got your undies on. Very fashionable ones, too, might I add.” Darren keeps his voice light and teasing because he’s pretty sure this is going to be embarrassing enough for Chris later on, might as well try and make it out to be as small of a deal as possible.    
  
Chris doesn’t even react, he just leans a little more heavily on Darren as they walk toward the bedroom. He knows which door it is without asking, and nudges it open. “I’m gonna go grab you some more water and some medicine, okay? Get comfortable.”    
  
Chris is curled up under the covers when Darren walks back in the room. He clearly hadn’t made it long before falling back asleep; there’ already a little bit of drool dampening the pillow under him.    
  
Darren almost leaves him to sleep but he knows in the long run Chris will thank him for it. He dutifully swallows down the three little pills and follows it up with more water. “Whoa, slow,” Darren reminds him. “No need to risk going all Linda Blair again.”    
  
For a brief moment there’s a flash of panic across Chris’s face, but it’s chased away by the throbbing in his head and the churning in his stomach.    
  
Darren’s phone tells him that it’s not even five yet, so he doesn’t feel too bad about taking advantage of the other half of the bed and getting some more sleep himself.    
  
*    
  
Two hours later, Darren wakes up again to the sound of Chris puking. He winces, trying to figure out if he should go check on him or not, but then he hears the shower running and figures Chris has it handled on his own by now.    
  
He decides that Chris might appreciate privacy more than anything else right now. Despite his own lingering headache from being in the same position on the couch for so many hours before and lack of sleep, he peels himself out of bed and stumbles into the kitchen. Chris isn’t a coffee drinker but he still has a Keurig and after pawing through a few of the drawers, Darren manages to find the right cups to make them both some tea. He wavers on breakfast, then makes himself toast.    
  
When there are nothing but crumbs left on his fingertips he makes his way back down the hall. The shower is still running so he gives it another ten minutes, then fifteen, then the water finally shuts off.    
  
Another ten minutes (two more slices of toast, another cup of tea) and he knocks lightly on the bedroom door. “I come bearing supplies.”    
  
“Come in,” Chris says, voice rough and pitched low. “Oh, God, it smells.”    
  
“Like tea and toast,” Darren confirms. “You need something in you, though. I brought more advil, too. Extra strength. And a Diet Coke if you feel up to it.”    
  
Chris, possibly for the first time in his life, passes on the Diet Coke. He swallows down the medicine first, then sits the tea from a half-slumped position against his headboard. He’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants, hair flopping on his forehead still wet. The neckline of his shirt is damp from a hasty dry off job.    
  
“You can probably sleep for a few more hours now,” Darren guesses.    
  
“I don’t know if I can until my head stops.” Chris pushes the plate away, and Darren puts it on the table by the bed then sits down beside him. “You can go, you know. I’m okay now.”    
  
Darren just laughs. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go with no on that one. I mean, you don’t look like you need your stomach pumped anymore, but you are in for one miserable day, Christopher. Trust me, I’ve been there. Plenty of times. And I am going to sit right here and be obnoxiously attentive, unless you feel like physically removing me, and I don’t really think you’re up for that right now. ”   
  
The thing is, Darren  has been there plenty of times, and every time he’s had a nice group of friends to both mock him mercilessly and care for him when he needs it.    
  
Chris doesn’t have that. If the thought hadn’t occurred to Darren before, it certainly has now. Chris has  friends , but they’re not his age group, not his peer group. They’ve all had their flirtation with excessive drinking and grown past it, along the appropriate timeline. They know their limits.    
  
Chris either doesn’t know his, or decided to ignore them the night before. Darren isn’t sure which one is more accurate, but he would almost prefer it if it were the former. If it’s the latter, that means there’s probably a reason he wanted to obliterate every rational part of his mind with the sheer unadulterated power of bourbon.    
  
“Did I do anything last night?” Chris asks quietly. “Say anything I need to apologize for?”   
  
“Besides give half your friends heart attacks? Nope, not really. You sang a lot. Danced some. Quite a booty shake you’ve got there, Mr. Colfer.”    
  
The corner of Chris’s mouth twitches like he might be working up to a smile, but he doesn’t follow through on it.    
  
“Don’t worry. It was cute.” Darren reaches over and pats Chris’s leg. “Oh, you kissed me, too.”    
  
“Fuck.” Chris manages to summon the energy to raise one hand to his face. “ _Fuck_. ”   
  
“Hey, no. Okay, first of all, it’s cool. Second of all, I kissed you back, dumbass. I mean, I didn’t realize exactly how wasted you were, but - trust me. I kissed you back. Soooo... it’s cool. On my end. If it was just some like, drunken thing, no big deal. But I’m not gonna freak.”    
  
Chris looks at him like he’s not entirely sure if he should trust Darren or not.    
  
Darren decides that maybe drastic measures are called for. Or... a nap. One of those things.    
  
“How’s your head?” He asks.    
  
Chris wobbles his hand back and forth, a so-so gesture.    
  
“Okay, then.” Darren sits up and yanks his t-shirt over his head, then stretches out on the bed. Yeah, definitely better than Chris’s couch. “I’m fucking exhausted, man. And you look like you could sleep for another year, so let’s get some z’s rolling.”    
  
Chris doesn’t argue, just rolls over so he’s facing away from Darren and goes back to sleep.    
  
*    
  
It’s late afternoon when Darren gets up. He starts a load of laundry so he’ll have clean jeans and raids Chris’s closet for a t-shirt that isn’t too big and sweats so he isn’t parading around naked. Not that he’d actually mind, but he does feel in this instance it might be best to wait for an invitation.    
  
He checks on Chris and finds him sleeping soundly. He looks better, even like this. Gorgeous, actually, if Darren were to dwell long enough to let the thought enter his mind. Asleep Chris is all pale skin and pink lips gone slack, hair flopping over his forehead. It doesn’t make him look younger, though; no, he looks just the same, looks like Chris - caught somewhere between adult-too-soon and clinging teenage youth.    
  
But because staring at Chris while he’s asleep makes him feel like a creep, he forces himself to move on. The bathroom requires a quick clean up job - shit, he wants a Hallmark card  and flowers for this - but it’s not as bad as he’d feared it would be. At least by the time Chris made it in here he had decent aim again. The same can’t be said for his downstairs bathroom, but Chris can call a fucking cleaning crew for that one. Darren’s already spent more time in that room than he intends to ever again.    
  
Once the bathroom passes inspection, he showers off a night of sweat and funk and worry until under too-hot water.    
  
Scrubbed clean and feeling fresh, Darren doesn’t hesitate head directly to the bed when he’s done. He proceeds shove roughly at Chris until he wakes up.    
  
“Stop,” Chris whines, clutching his pillow even more.    
  
“I’m hungry, and you’re buying,” Darren says. Chris still doesn’t move, so Darren resorts to unfair play. He straddles Chris’s ass and bounces.    
  
Chris yelps. “Oh my god, I  _hate_ you.”    
  
Darren stops bouncing. He leans forward and puts his hands on Chris’s shoulders, massaging. “No, you don’t. You like me. You want to kiss me, you want to hug me. You want to maaarrryyy meeeeee,” he sings.    
  
“I want you to  _fuck off_ ,” Chris says, but it’s sort of a moot point because he follows it up with a moan when Darren’s thumbs dig into a knot.    
  
“Really? You want me to stop?”    
  
“No,” Chris mumbles.    
  
Darren rolls off of him. “Too bad. I’m hungry. Feed me, Seymour.”    
  
“I don’t like you. I’m just using you for your body,” Chris mumbles.    
  
“Not what you said last night,” Darren responds casually.    
  
He sees the faintest hint of panic on Chris’s face before Chris masks it. “No, I didn’t.”    
  
“How do you know?” Darren taunts. “You don’t remember shit about last night, do you?”    
  
“You said I didn’t do anything...”    
  
“Except kiss me.” Darren smirks, but then takes pity on him. “Fine, you didn’t say that. I guess you really do just want me for my body...”    
  
He sighs dramatically and then runs a hand down his torso, rucking up his shirt on purpose to expose his stomach. He watches Chris out of the corner of his eye to make sure he’s paying attention.    
  
He is.    
  
And in that case, he really must be feeling better. “Food!”   
  
*    
  
They sit across from each other in a little diner neither of them have been to before. Chris is wearing a cap and sunglasses, both for the disguise and because the sunlight is still not his friend. Darren has a beanie jammed over his completely product-free hair and two days of scruff on his cheeks.    
  
With any luck, they’ll both go unnoticed.    
  
Chris inhales a plate of scrambled egg and potatoes.    
  
“At least you remembered to use utensils.” Darren commends him.    
  
Chris reaches over and steals a piece of Darren’s bacon, jamming it into his mouth defiantly.    
  
Darren decides maybe it’s time for the actual talk part of this whole thing. He fidgets a little, tapping his fingers on the table. “Okay, look.”    
  
Chris does look.    
  
“You can’t do that again. Last night, whatever that was - it was stupid. That could have been serious.”    
  
Chris looks down, scowling. “I don’t have a drinking problem or anything.”    
  
Darren shrugs. “It’s none of my- no, fuck that. It is my business, because you’re my... you’re someone I fucking care about, okay? A lot. And that’s like, that’s a whole different conversation, okay? For another time. Right now I just want you to promise me... if there is something going, that made you go off the deep end like that, come to me. Or someone.” Chris looks both ashamed and humiliated. Darren doesn’t have it in him to drag this out even more. He reaches across the table and snags Chris’s hand, squeezing tight. “Look at me, man.”    
  
Chris looks at him, though it’s obvious he doesn’t want to be. “Okay.”   
  
“I’ve been there. It’s cool.” Darren gives Chris’s fingers another clench and then lets go. “And I promise nothing is gonna end up on Facebook, which officially makes me a better friend then  all of my friends were to me.”    
  
Chris doesn’t laugh, but his eyes crinkle up just a little. He goes back to eating, but more slowly.    
  
After a minute he looks back up. He stutters just a little over the first word but then clears his throat and finds his voice again, curious in a way that makes Darren slightly wary. “So, so... what’s that other conversation we need to have? About you... caring?”   
  
“Now?” Darren squeaks. “You want to do that now?”    
  
Chris pounces on the weakness, confidence rebuilding in the face of a flustered Darren. “Come on. I need a distraction from my embarrassment.”   
  
“Well, then...” Darren takes a deep breath, and starts to talk.

  
Chris listens.   
  
He listens, and doesn’t interrupt, even when Darren sort of wishes he would. He listens without even reacting, fork caught loosely between his fingers until he puts it down on his plate halfway through Darren’s spiel about feelings and what an amazing guy Chris is and how sometimes you aren’t looking for something and it shows up anyway and sometimes you’re just compatible and things develop organically and then he’s sidetracked talking about how his parents met...   
  
And then he looks up and realizes Chris is smiling at him. He’s sort of _laughing_ at him. “What?” Darren says, a little perturbed that Chris isn’t receiving this with the sincerity with which it’s intended.

“Nothing. I’ve just never seen you act like this,” Chris says. He looks down at his plate and grimaces. “And would you mind if we finished this back at my place? I think I’ve developed an instinctive reaction to revealing any personal information in an unsecured location. The internet has ears everywhere.”  
  
They pay the check and leave.   
  
*  
  
Darren means to talk but they get inside Chris’s house and he looks at Chris - who has traded his sunglasses for his regular glasses, hair messy but finger-combed back from his face, nose so cutely pointed and...   
  
Well, Darren has always been kind of an impulsive guy. Once the door is shut and locked he follows Chris into the kitchen and then grabs him by the waist, turning him and kissing him.   
  
Chris is surprised enough that he doesn’t even kiss back right away, but Darren cups his face with one hand and licks into Chris’s mouth and then Chris makes the sexiest sort of noise and most definitely reciprocates. With, Darren notes, a great deal more finesse and coordination than he had the night before... which is something, since Darren hadn’t exactly been complaining the night before.   
  
They’re both laughing for some reason when they stop, which is actually pretty fucking awesome, too. Darren _loves_ to laugh. There’s nothing that laughter doesn’t make better, even sex and making out.   
  
“How can you possibly want to kiss me after last night?” Chris asks, ducking his head down against Darren’s shoulder.   
  
Darren laughs and rubs one hand between Chris’s shoulders,, the other staying firm across his lower back. “You’re cute, that helps to block the memories out.”   
  
Chris pulls back a little and turns his head to yawn. “And how am I still sleepy? I slept half of the day.”   
  
“And none of the night. Also you’ve got an entire liquor store pumping its way out of your system,” Darren teases. “That sort of takes a lot out of you.”   
  
“Don’t remind me.” Chris slips out of Darren’s arms, leaving Darren wanting to protest. He sits down at the table and looks at Darren, studying him. “You want to ask, don’t you? Why I drank so much?”   
  
“Yeah,” Darren admits.  
  
“What if I said I just didn’t mean to?”   
  
“I’d think you were lying.” Darren answers honestly. “Because I’ve seen you know when to stop before. Something felt different about last night.”   
  
Chris shrugs and looks down. “A lot of little things, I guess. It seems stupid now. Not worth... that. I had a fight with my mom over the phone - we never fight, I don’t think I talk to her enough to really fight with her, but it was just... bad. I felt like, like... like a kid again, or something, I don’t know. And then Cory...”   
  
“Cory what?” Darren prompts him.   
  
“He just made... some joke. About me not being old enough... look, that was stupid, too.”   
  
“No, Chris, man. What did he say?” Darren scoots his chair closer, knowing it won’t really many any difference but wanting some of the distance closed.   
  
“That, uh. That if I was looking to get... get laid. That I better hope there were some pedos around. Or something, I don’t even really remember exactly how he said it, it was just a dumb joke-”   
  
“Only kind Cory can make,” Darren says, trying to get a smile out of Chris. It doesn’t work.   
  
“I just felt...”   
  
“Young?” Darren guess.   
  
“I guess they all probably think that even more now.”   
  
“Chris, no one cares. You get that, right? I mean, they might be a little worried, because that wasn’t really you out there.”   
  
Chris does smile just a little bit then. “Except when I kissed you. That was me...”   
  
“Oh yeah?” Darren’s heart beats a little faster.   
  
Chris shrugs. “It’s not like it’s really a secret that I would want to kiss you.”   
  
“Uh, news to me.” And it is - because Darren just hadn’t thought that much about the two of them before last night. Romance and dating, in general, except as it pertained his public image and the occasional antsy need to just get off with someone, weren’t at the forefront of his mind at all.   
  
This is not an opportunity that he’d imagined presenting itself... the chance to maybe have that with someone he already knows, already likes, already trusts. Sure, there's gonna be a shit ton of pr problems, but... 

But he really likes it when Chris kisses him. He really likes just  _being_ with Chris.   
  
“Well,” Chris says, looking up at Darren with the strangest little smile. “In that case. There’s this boy that I’ve had a crush on for a while now, and sometimes he looks at me and it makes me feel like there could be something there.”   
  
“Oh yeah?” Darren really, really wants Chris to keep talking even though Chris has obviously stopped to give Darren a chance to respond. “What does he do that makes you feel like that?”   
  
Chris takes a minute to think it over, then takes a breath and starts to talk again. “He talks to me and he really listens to me when I talk to him. He’s genuinely interested in the stuff I do, it never feels like he’s just humoring me. He encouraged me when I wasn’t sure I could do any of this. He... he leaves me voicemails singing ridiculous songs. He lets me text him at three in the morning when I can’t sleep. And then other times he gets distracted by a pair of boobs in a tight dress and I have to remind myself that maybe things like that are all in my head. Maybe I just haven’t had enough real friends in my life to know the difference and I read too much into things. Maybe that had a little bit to do with it, too.”   
  
By the end of it, Chris sounds dejected. He sounds like a person sounds when they are waiting for confirmation of bad news.   
  
“Sounds like this guy is kind of a douche sometimes,” Darren says.  
  
“I don’t know,” Chris says. “He took care of me when I acted like an idiot last night.”   
  
Darren feels pressure in his chest, like something heavy is pressing down on it. “He did it because he hated seeing you like that and he wanted to make sure you were okay. Because he cares about you.”   
  
“Yeah, he said something about that. I guess I’m just wondering... how he cares? If he cares as a friend, or maybe something else.”   
  
Darren appreciates how hard it must be for Chris to just come out and ask, even obliquely. He also recognizes that right now Chris is more vulnerable than he allows himself to be in front of anyone, ever, and he needs to proceed with extreme caution.   
  
“Well, I’ll be honest, he probably has a lot of thinking to do. But right now he’s kind of leaning toward more than friends, because you kissed him last night and it kind of rocked his world.”   
  
Chris turns his head to hide a smile, but hides it badly. Darren’s eyes don’t leave his mouth and he smiles back without being able to help it. Chris just looks so happy hearing that. Fuck, he likes making Chris happy. _Fuck_ , how has it taken him so long to think about this?   
  
“So what does he need from me?” Chris rubs his hands over his face, looking tired, and Darren smiles.   
  
He knows exactly what they both need right now. “To go have a snuggle fest with you on the couch while the two of you watch something musical and animated.”   
  
“I have Finding Nemo,” Chris offers. “Not musical, but...”   
  
“But it sounds perfect.” Darren stands and holds a hand out to Chris, helping him up. Once Chris is on his feet, Darren pulls him in for a hug instead of letting his hand go. Chris’s arms slip around his waist and their cheeks rest against each other, slightly misaligned with the difference in inches between them. “For the record, I don’t think he’s gonna need too much time.”   
  
Chris’s little laugh huffs out warmly against Darren’s skin and they hug a little more tightly.


End file.
